


'till i turn blue

by absolvedhistory



Series: need some more [2]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, M/M, Post-Break Up, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-10-21 18:43:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20698259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/absolvedhistory/pseuds/absolvedhistory
Summary: He can’t look Jan in the face right now. “Was it even a breakup? We were never a couple.”“Oh Jesus,” Jan says. “You really believe that?”“Yes,” Eric lies. He will, eventually, he thinks. His heart is currently breaking into pieces. He’s irrational right now. Deep down, he knows Dele is right. They were just fooling themselves. He was fooling himself.





	1. The End

**Author's Note:**

> almost there, folks

**July 2018**

“Doing so well,” Eric praises. When he opens his eyes and looks down, the sight of Dele’s lips stretched around his cock is almost too much. He could really come in under two minutes. Suddenly, there’s a knock on his door. Eric hopes he’s just imagining it, the knock, until he hears the familiar voice of his mother calling his name. He opens his eyes again and pushes Dele off of him.    
  
“Oh fuck, my mum is here,” Eric says as he tucks himself back in his pants. When he was younger, he loved when his mum would come over uninvited to his home with food or just comfort. Right now, he’s a little bit annoyed. 

Dele looks confused, but he stands up nonetheless. He also looks so fucking turned on, Eric can see the tent in his trousers. He forgot how much Dele gets turned on from this. 

“Just pretend you’re not here,” Dele says dumbly.

“She has a key,” Eric says. “And the dogs.”

Dele widens. “Oh shit.”

“Can you go hide?” Eric asks anxiously to Dele who is still standing in the middle of the kitchen. 

“Can’t I just pretend to play FIFA in your living room?” Dele asks. 

Eric blinks. “Of course. I thought--”

“If your mum thinks it’s weird that your best mate is over, that’s not my fault,” Dele shrugs. Eric rolls his eyes fondly. 

“Put a shirt on, slag,” Eric says instead. 

“Language,” Eric’s mum says. Dele jumps. “But Dele, the airconditioning is up super high, you aren’t cold?”

“Hi,” Dele greets Eric’s mum with a hug and kiss. 

“Come to visit Eric?” 

Dele nods. “Want to see what he’s done with his place in Portugal. It’s beautiful, innit?”

“It sure is,” Eric’s mum agrees.

“Okay,” Dele says, awkwardly. “I’m going to… get a t-shirt.”

As soon as Dele’s run up the stairs, Eric’s mum is on him. 

“Thought your guest bedroom was on the main level?” 

Eric falters. That is true. “I--”

“Oh wait, you’ve got your laundry room upstairs, haven’t you?” Eric’s mum asks.

“Yeah,” Eric nods. “Dele’s here for the week, and packed like, one t-shirt.”

“Poor thing,” Eric’s mum says. “You never told me he was coming to Portugal.”

“Oh it just-- a last minute thing,” Eric shrugs. He almost feels defensive. Why is she asking him all this? Why does she have that look on her face. Eric feels nervous, now. He doesn’t need to explain himself to his mother, he’s a grownup. Why is she making him feel so guilty?

“I was going to ask if you wanted to go out to lunch,” his mum continues. “But I guess you’re preoccupied.”

“I can still go to lunch,” Eric says. 

“And leave your friend all alone in this big house?” Eric mum asks. “Where are your manners, Eric?”

“Dele wouldn’t mind.” He wouldn’t. He’d keep himself busy for the hour that Eric is gone, probably take Clay out for a walk and enjoy the coastal side nature. He’s done it multiple times before.

“I’ll call you,” his mum says, getting ready to leave again. “You better answer your phone. I always think you’ve ended up dead somewhere.”

“Just don’t use my phone that much, ma,” Eric smiles.

“Use it more! And tell Dele I said goodbye.”

“I will,” he calls when his mother is out of his vision. Once he hears the door slam shut, he runs upstairs where Dele is lying in his bed, scrolling through his phone. Eric joins him. 

“What’s up?” Eric asks. 

“I wish…” Dele says then stops. “Never mind.”

Eric reaches for Dele’s hand. “No, tell me.”

“I hate that we have to hide,” Dele says. “I like being private but I hate--”

“I know,” Eric says.

“Sometimes I wonder what the point of all this is,” Dele says. It hurts Eric, he knows Dele is just venting, is just frustrated with the circumstances, but it still hurts to hear that Dele doesn’t think there’s a purpose to this at times.

“I love you so much, Eric,” Dele says. “You don’t even know.”

“I know,” Eric says, shifting closer to Dele. he lays out his hand so that Dele can rest his head on his bicep. He loves Dele more than life, he thinks. He doesn’t want to do any of this if it isn’t with Dele.

**June 2019**

Dele ruins Eric’s afterglow. Dele, all fucked out and looking like he’s on his way to sleep obviously gathers enough coherency that he lets Eric down easy. Eric wish he saw it coming. Dele’s talking quickly, explaining all the reasons it’s just not going to work, why they’ve been fighting so much and he’s putting his clothes on hastily, because he’s getting ready to leave you, Eric’s brain helpfully supplies. And maybe Eric should’ve known from the way that Dele didn’t immediately haphazardly throw his clothes off in various places in Eric’s living room, instead carefully setting them to the side once they got to Eric’s bedroom. 

“You’re right,” Eric says, sitting up, looking around his floor for his own boxers. He feels vulnerable like this. The statement surprises himself, but more importantly it surprises Dele. 

“I am?” Dele asks. And of course Dele wants Eric to do his own breakup for him. It’s  _ Dele _ . Eric finally finds his boxers and pulls them on, before settling back into his own bed. He’d very much like to go back to sleep, thank you very much. 

“Yes, we’re older now, it’s time for us to get into serious relationships,” Eric says, he doesn’t know why he says it. “Let’s be honest. We were never going serious.”

Dele flinches. Eric feels it. There’s a flash of hurt across Dele’s face before his facial expression turns stony. Eric is confused, now. He thought that was what Dele meant?

Two men, together, in their profession? Sure, Eric knows it’s damn near impossible, but he never really thought about it.

“Fine,” Dele says. “I’m going to go.”

Eric is annoyed now. The conversation seems to have ended way too quickly, and he’s pretty sure there needs to be more to this discussion. He stands up. “What did I say wrong?”

“Nothing, Eric,” Dele snaps. His tone definitely implies that Eric said something wrong, he’s heard it often enough. “I’m glad we agree. I have no more reason to be here.”

“Okay?” Eric says. 

“I’ll get my stuff tomorrow,” Dele says. With that, Dele is out of Eric’s bedroom. Eric carefully listens to Dele’s footsteps stomping around his house, probably looking for his Airpods, and Clay’s excited patter before finally, he hears the front door slam closed. 

Eric is so confused. He understands, that he’s single now -- he’s always been, technically, he thinks. It’s late in the night, and Eric definitely can’t fall asleep now. Eric pulls on his own jumper and sweats before he makes his way downstairs. 

He’s going to see Jan, because right now, Eric does not want to be alone.

—

“Eric,” Jan sounds tired. It is two o’clock in the morning.

“Jan,” Eric calls back.

“This is your fourth beer, and you haven’t told me what’s wrong,” Jan says. “Is it about you and Dele?”

Jan doesn’t know a lot. But he knows enough. He knows that Dele is pretty much the only constant in Eric’s life, he suspects that Eric can’t see himself with anyone else. Sometimes Eric regrets telling him. Now is a time like that. 

Eric nods silently. 

Jan leans in closer. “What happened?”

He can’t look Jan in the face right now. “Dele broke up with me,” Eric says, then pauses. “Or was it even a breakup, we were never a couple.”

Jan looks at Eric like he’s crazy. “You most certainly were.”

“We were never going to get married and have kids,” Eric concludes. “Better this way.”

“Oh Jesus,” Jan says. “You really believe that?”

“Yes,” Eric lies. He will, eventually. His heart is currently breaking into pieces. He’s not rational right now. Deep down, he knows Dele is right. They were just fooling themselves. 

“Eric,” Jan says, and his voice is just dripping with sympathy and Eric suddenly feels nauseous. It’s not from the alcohol. “I’m here for you.”

“Don’t,” Eric says.

“No,” Jan rolls his eyes. “You’re not going to tell me not to be a friend, right now.”

“I don’t need pity,” Eric says. “I’ve been dumped before.” Well, only once, and he didn’t really take that well, either. He’s proper fucked. 

“Let’s go on vacation,” Jan suggests, changing the topic altogether. “Me, you, a couple of the guys.”

“I was supposed to go on vacation with Dele,” Eric says sulkily, and now the alcohol is setting in. They didn’t really have plans, yet, but it was a thing that was going to happen, like one morning they decide to fuck off away from England for a week, and it’s nice. It  _ was  _ nice.

“Well, Dele decided that he would rather be an idiot, so you’re stuck with me,” Jan says shrugging. “Warmth is what you need.”

“Yeah,” Eric nods. He would’ve gotten warmth  _ and  _ sex if he went on vacation with Dele. This sounds so unfair. How did Eric’s life turn upside down in the span of five hours.

“Stop thinking about Dele,” Jan says. 

“‘M not,” Eric mumbles, settling back against the chair and closing his eyes. He’s thinking about all the sex he’s not going to have on this impromptu vacation with Jan because no one interests him at all. 

“Okay, who should we invite?” Jan asks.

“The usual,” Eric sighs. “It better be fun.”

“Now you’re just being a dickhead,” Jan giggles. “I’m gonna make some calls, do you want to sleep here?”

“It’s two am,” Eric says to Jan.

“Everyone’s up for Ibiza,’’ Jan winks. 

“I have to go back home, put some food out, clean up my room,” Eric explains. “Sleep for twenty four hours.” 

“I’ll order you an Uber,” Jan says. 

“Yeah,” Eric says. Stupidly, he thought he was going to drive, but he’s pretty sure he can’t  _ really _ . It’d be dangerous and all that. He’s drunk. “Thanks.”

Jan smiles softly. “You’re welcome. I expect the same when I’m in trouble.”

“No you’re perfect,” Eric argues seriously. “Nothing bad ever happens to you.”

Jan snorts. “Okay, Eric. Your driver is here.”

—

Eric is awoken to knocks on his door. He doesn’t want to answer it, he doesn’t know who the fuck it is, he doesn’t give a shit particularly. He’s comfortably falling back to sleep when his phone starts ringing. He knows the stupid ringtone, he wants to throw his phone against the wall. He finds his phone under his pillows, and slides to answer. 

“Hello,” Eric says. 

“I’m outside,” Dele says. 

“Where are your keys?” Eric asks. 

“I left them here,” Dele says. “So you can take them back. Open the door, now.”

Eric feels sick, due to the hangover mostly, he thinks. 

Eric is in and out in twenty minutes, Eric stands outside his walk-in closet, watching as he rummages through Eric’s clothing for his own, some of them he’s not even sure if it’s his, if Eric’s stretched his t-shirts out around the shoulders or if it’s just a shirt of Eric’s that got shrunk in the dryers. 

Eric wants to point out, half of this shit Dele doesn’t even wear anymore, and that he can just throw them out, but he’ll let Dele deal with this the way he wants to. Eric is  _ so so _ confused, but he should get used to this Dele.

When Dele is about to leave, he asks Eric, “We’re still best mates, right?”

Eric wants to scream,  _ obviously not _ , but that’s childish. Dele wants to make amends, whichever way possible. It’s better than nothing, Eric supposes, he’s glad Dele doesn’t want Eric out of his life completely. 

“Yeah, Del,” Eric smiles. “Have a good summer, alright?”

Dele smiles back, close-mouthed. “You, too, Eric.”

—

When Eric arrives to the villa in Ibiza, his first thought is that he’s way too sober for this vacation. 

“It’s 11 in the morning,” Jan says to Eric when Eric tells him they should pick up some liquor. 

“Okay?” Eric says. “I didn’t say we were going to start drinking. We’re the only ones here anyway.”

Jan shrugs and puts his sunglasses back on. “Tequila?”

Eric grins. “Exactly.”

—

The flight and sun tires Eric out, even from just walking down the street with Jan. Eric sleeps until the rest of the gang arrives, and by that time, everyone is getting ready to go out to explore the nightlife. He puts effort into his look, because he feels dead, turns pink a little bit at Jan’s whistling as he passes by Eric primming himself in one of the mirrors. 

“Sorry, I’m not interested,” Eric teases.

Eric likes going out. He likes the scene and he likes to be around people, surprisingly to anyone who doesn’t know him. It may take more energy out of him than the average person, but he does enjoy it. It’s warm tonight, and Eric is already sweating in his outfit. Jan is leading the group toward a club he found out about this afternoon. 

The club is packed when he gets inside, the music is loud and Eric wants to order a bottle already. 

“Should have had some tequila before we left,” Eric says in Jan’s ear. 

“You will be drunk soon, Eric, don’t worry,” Jan wraps his hand around Eric’s hip to guide him toward the booth. 

A lot of drinks later, one of Eric’s friends brings a girl to the booth. Eric almost wonders what she’s doing here until his friend is calling his name to get his attention. Eric looks over, to the girl. She’s smiling brightly at Eric, and Eric almost rolls his eyes. 

“Eric’s been grumpy all day,” his friend is saying. “I was saying he needs a girl to cheer him up.”

Eric raises his brows. 

“Maybe--” Jan says.

“Yeah I do,” Eric says standing up. The whole club is spinning when he does. He turns toward the girl. She’s much shorter than him, he lowers himself a little to look at her better. “I’m Eric.”

She’s fit, she might have just gotten her fake tan yesterday and playing with her hair a little too much, but Eric really doesn’t mind. 

“I’m Kim,” Kim says, taking Eric’s hand. She’s American, too.

“Would you like to dance?” Eric asks. 

“I’d love to,” Kim says. She leads Eric out of the booth and toward the central dancefloor. The music is quite shit, and Eric wonders how long he has to dance with her before they can get the fuck out of here and he can release his pent up frustration. Kim is grinding against Eric’s front like she has the same idea. 

Eric finds it a little funny, Dele would always say Eric was horrible at picking up when they were younger. He wonders what Dele would say now if he saw him, right now. It shocks him a bit, wondering what Dele would think. He probably wouldn’t care, he’ll probably be happy that Eric isn’t obsessed with him anymore. Eric doesn’t know. 

Eric is trying not to care what Dele thinks. 

He can’t help but remember that Dele would’ve danced with Eric until Eric was straining in his jeans, go back to the booth to the rest of the group and pretend like he didn’t leave Eric hanging, until he decides he’s ready to go home, Eric following behind him thirty seconds later. He knows that if he was with Dele right now, Dele would be sitting so far from him in the uber, pretending like he didn’t do this to Eric on purpose. When they would get back to one of their homes, Dele would lay Eric down on the couch and ride him so agonizingly slow, Eric would almost whine, Dele would be laughing while kissing him. Eric would get so impatient, he would have no choice to flip them over and fuck Dele without remorse. It would be a good night.

“Can we get out of here?” she finally asks Eric, shaking him out of his thoughts.

“Okay,” Eric says. He thinks he should probably tell the group he’s going to be leaving, but they probably already know. Jan will take his jacket home with him, probably. 

While they wait for the Uber, it’s silent. Eric hates it. He asks her about her life. She’s in college in the States. She just finished her exams. She’s never been to Ibiza before. Yes, Eric knows a little Spanish. No, he’s too drunk to bring it out right now.

“You look even hotter out of the club lights,” Kim says to Eric. She moves closer to Eric until she’s leaning on him. 

Eric gives a half smile. “Thanks.”

“When are you going to kiss me?” Kim asks, with round eyes and biting at her biting lip. 

Eric is about to, he really is. But suddenly, he gets sick. Eric promptly leans over and throws up on the side of the road. It’s gross, and now Eric feels gross. He didn’t think he drank that much.

“Oh, I’m--” Kim says. “I’ll go get your friend?”

Eric doesn’t say anything to that. That’s nice of her, at least. He knows he would’ve done the same thing, of course, but he knows it’s not the most pleasant thing to do for a stranger. He’s embarrassed to say the least. And now he’s going to go home without his dick getting wet. His bad mood is back again. He wants to sleep and never wake up. He feels a hand on his shoulder, and turns around to see Jan looking down at him. “Are you okay, Eric?”

“Drank too much,” Eric says, nodding. 

“Want to get out of here?” Jan asks. “The music sucks.”

Eric laughs. “It does.”

“Let’s walk, it’s only about fifteen minutes,” Jan says.

“Were you really going to sleep with her?” Jan asks. 

“Yeah,” Eric says, then shrugs. “Maybe.”

“She’s not your type,” Jan says. 

“Need to expand my horizons, no?” Eric asks. “What is my type, even?”

“Guess you’re right,” Jan says.

—-

Dele and Eric don’t really plan vacations. Dele would usually climb into Eric’s lap and tell him he wants to get out here, and Eric will try to say they can’t just drop their lives and responsibilities for one weekend, and Dele says yes they absolutely can, with big round eyes and Eric of course says yes. They’re always the best two to five days out of Eric’s life, they always seemed to get better as they got older. 

“Dele seems to be enjoying his vacation,” Jan mumbles from what sounds like far away. He isn’t though, he’s right beside Eric, sunbathing and Eric’s just half-asleep, he’s been drunk since eight in the morning.

Eric wants to give a thumbs up to Jan, but he knows Jan doesn’t deserve that. When he lifts his head up, Jan has his phone stretched out to him. He’s in the States. That’s very nice, Eric thinks. He hopes that Dele enjoys himself. He’s half annoyed at the thought, but the sun also feels too nice on his skin to really give that too much thinking.

He wonders if Dele is looking for someone to get his mind of Eric, like Eric is. 

“What are you thinking about,” Jan asks.

“That I just wasted two years of my life,” Eric says, honestly. 

“I don’t understand,” Jan turns to look at Eric. “I don’t get what he’s doing.”

“He’s being proactive,” Eric sneers. “And he’s very good at not giving a shit about anyone but himself.”

“Eric,” Jan says warningly before Eric turns away from Jan and closes his eyes. He  _ was  _ trying to sleep. He was trying to enjoy his vacation. He doesn’t know why everyone keeps talking about Dele to him.

**July 2019**

Eric is happy to see his teammates again. He hasn’t seen Harry in a bit, wants to ask him about his wedding in  _ person _ . He can’t wait for the people who always seem to put a smile on his face no matter what he’s doing. He gets a lot of hugs. He watches when Dele arrives to the facility, he doesn’t seem to look for Eric, and he doesn’t stop to greet Eric’s table with Jan, Toby and Harry. 

Harry gets up to chase after him, of course, and suddenly Dele is all smiles. 

“Not going to say hi to your boy?” Toby asks. 

“Nope,” Eric looks down at the tabletop. 

“Okay,” Toby says, he sounds confused as Eric feels.

“Eric can we come over tonight and use your grill?” Jan asks, filling in the silence.

“If it’s just you two, sure,” Eric says, preoccupying himself with his phone. 

“Jeez,” Toby laughs awkwardly. “What crawled up your ass this morning?”

—

When Eric is examined by medical, he’s told that he needs to go under a procedure, that he can’t go on the Asia tour, Eric thinks that the universe is conspiring against him. His injury is aggravating him, has been for a bit but he didn’t think it’d be like this. It seems the older he gets, the more he can’t just bounce back. He knows that’s how life works, that’s how being an athlete works, knows he’s got to work harder to get back to where he was. 

Dele catches up with him when he’s about to leave. The first thing he says to Eric, is “How’s your hip?”

“Damaged goods,” Eric grunts. 

“Let me drive you home?” Dele asks. “You look like you’re gonna think too hard if you’re alone.”

_ Why do you care _ , is on the tip of Eric’s tongue. Instead, he rolls his eyes playfully and says, “Okay, yes Mr. Chauffeur.” 

Dele actually grins at that. Maybe, Eric thinks. 

Dele makes Eric sit on his couch when he brings him home, he runs Eric a glass of water and puts food in the dog bowls. It feels eerily familiar to just a couple months ago, and Eric feels sick again. 

“Sucks that you’re not going on the tour with us,” Dele says to Eric when he sits next to him on the couch. 

“It is what it is,” Eric shrugs. “You guys don’t need me, anyway.”

“Yes, we do,” Dele scolds quickly. “Why do you say stuff like that?”

“It’s how I feel,” Eric says honestly.

“I hate when you say that,” Dele says softer this time. “You mean so much to the team, Eric. You have to know that.”

Eric closes his eyes. He doesn’t need Dele talking to him like he’s his mother, or even worse, his  _ boyfriend _ . He hates it so much. He wants to cry. Dele is so close to him, so close to his face. They both are looking at each other’s lips. Eric leans in first. They’re kissing desperately, like they haven’t kissed in a while, because they haven’t. Eric drags Dele onto his lap, never breaking apart. 

Dele pulls away. “Let me show you.”

“Show me wh--” Eric is about to ask before his tongue is caught in his throat as he watches Dele slide to the floor. Dele carefully unties his sweats. He taps Eric’s hips to get Eric to lift up so he can pull his sweats and boxers down. 

“Del--”

“Shhh,” Dele says. “Let me.”

Eric doesn’t last very long. He’s missed the warmth of Dele’s mouth, his tongue, the way he relaxes and lets Eric fuck his throat until his voice is raspy. Misses when Dele would crawl back up and they’d fall asleep on the couch, then pick up where they left off.

He misses Dele so much.

Dele asks if he wants him to stay a little longer, and Eric says no. He’s got company coming over. It’s just Jan and Toby, but he doesn’t want to Dele to feel like he needs to be here any longer than he needs to be. Dele lets himself out. 

He doesn’t know where the boundaries begin and end. If this is part of the friendship, but fuck it, Eric will take anything Dele gives him.

— 

A few days later, the team goes out for the night. It’s a disaster, in Eric's opinion. He gets drunk way too fast, but luckily, Harry stops him before he can get too drunk. Then Dele asks Eric to dance with him. 

“Is that a good idea?” Jan asks. “You’re both sloshed.”

“That’s what makes it more fun,” Dele grins at Jan. “Eric is a horrible dancer drunk.”

“So are you,” Eric counters. “You’re a horrible dancer in general.”

“You’re mean,” Dele slurs. “So mean.”

“Cmon,” Eric wraps his hand tightly around Dele’s waste. He brings his lips to Dele’s ear. “Let’s dance.”

Later, when they’re pressed against each other. Eric feels it. He’s  _ so  _ close. He can feel Dele’s breath across his face. He closes his eyes. 

“Can we get out of here?” Dele asks. 

“Let’s go to mine,” Eric says.

“Yes, Eric,” Dele nods quickly. They don’t get out of there fast enough. 

In the uber, Dele lets Eric lean on him. Eric feels so needy right now. He’s just drunk he knows, but he hates feeling like this. Like he needs Dele to hold him. Dele wraps an arm tightly around his shoulders. 

Dele flings his shoes across the foyer like he usually does, and runs up the stairs before Eric to Eric’s room. Eric follows him, Dele’s already in the bed, half-dressed and waiting for Eric. Eric takes his own shirt and jeans off, climbing into the bed in just his underwear. Dele immediately straddles him. 

“Mhmm,” Dele grins as he grinds back against Eric’s erection. “Missed this.”

Eric missed it, too. But that’s not what he needs tonight. 

“Can you fuck me,” Eric asks, not looking Dele in the eyes. His hands are tight around Dele’s hips. Dele stutters in his movements and looks at Eric, waiting for the punchline, Eric supposes.

“Don’t make me ask again,” Eric says roughly.

“ _ Yes _ ,” Dele says.

“I have stuff in my downstairs bathroom,” Eric says.

“Yeah, I know where it is,” Dele laughs mostly to himself. It’s true, he’s the one who left them there last. Eric settles properly back against the pillows when Dele leaves the room. He’s back only moments later, breathless. He hops back onto Eric’s bed with such excitement that Eric almost laughs.

“So how do you want it?” Dele asks.

“Like this,” Eric says, gesturing to where he’s on his back and Dele is between his knees.

“Okay,” Dele whispers. 

Eric hasn’t been fucked in a long time. It’s not that he doesn’t like it, he does, but Dele likes it more, and Eric likes fucking Dele more. He’s had Dele’s fingers before, has come from just that, but nothing more. 

But he needs it now. He doesn’t let Dele stretch him open for too long, he’s been ready, he thinks. When Dele lines himself up and pushes in, he thinks it’s almost everything he’d been asking for. 

“Eric, you’re so tight,” Dele sounds strained. His face is tucked into Eric’s neck and Eric can’t take it. “I’m not gonna last.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Eric says. “I’m not a bird.”

He’s gripping onto Dele’s biceps so tightly he wouldn’t be surprised if his fingers leave their prints there. He needs Dele to move, because he’s going to lose his mind. “Dele.”

“I got you,” Dele says, before rocking his hips forward in a steady pace. It feels so good, so intense, Eric doesn’t want to let go, doesn’t want Dele to let him go, he wishes they could go back to where they were before. Eric doesn’t even fucking know when that was.

Dele tries to do something. He tries to kiss Eric, but Eric doesn’t want that. He turns his head and Dele misses his lips, plants a kiss on his jaw instead. Eric closes his eyes. Dele just keeps fucking him at this pace, Eric wants to ask for more but he can’t seem to form words. 

Eric comes first. He lets Dele keep going. He can tell Dele is close, his thrusts are getting sloppier and he’s breathing harshly into Eric’s neck.

“Baby, you can come,” Eric says and Dele whines when he does. 

When Dele pulls out, Eric almost whimpers at the feeling. It’s an empty feeling now, he feels cold all over. 

“I’ll be right back,” Dele says, stumbling toward Eric’s bathroom.

Eric almost thinks stupidly, Dele isn’t coming back, but he can hear him moving around in Eric’s bathroom, hears the tap running before it shuts off a few seconds later. When Dele comes back, he settles between Eric’s legs and wipes him down. It’s so fucking intimate, it makes Eric feel so fucking vulnerable. He’s never felt like this before. 

“Hold me,” Eric says suddenly.

Dele’s eyes are wide. “Eric—“

“Just for tonight,” Eric murmurs. “I promise.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dele says nodding. He tosses the rag toward Eric’s hamper and settles in beside Eric. Dele wraps a hand around Eric’s waist. Dele nuzzles into Eric’s neck. “Smells good,” Dele mumbles about Eric’s pillow. Eric feels safe. He falls asleep. 

When Eric wakes up, he’s wrapped up nicely in his comforter, his phone is plugged into the wall and there’s a glass of water and pills on his bedside table. But he’s alone. 

That’s all that he can think about right now.

When Eric checks his phone, he’s got a text from Harry Kane. 

_ You alright mate? You and Dele left pretty early. _

He texts Harry back, that he’s fine and deletes Dele’s number. 


	2. The Middle Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t like mean Eric,” Winksy says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had. half of this written so i thought, why do school work when I could finish this part. alright back to school lads

** August 2019 **

Eric spends most of the duration of the Audi tournament alternating between watching prime-time TV, looking at recipes he's never going to cook and rehab. He tries to watch porn to let out his frustrations, but he gets bored about five minutes in. Instead, he thinks about the last time he fucked Dele, how pliant he was yet demanding and bratty at the same time, Eric misses it. He misses the possessive feeling of coming inside him. He misses Dele. 

Dele has sent him random pictures of things he finds interesting, but instead, they all go to Eric's unknown senders' box. 

When Eric looks at himself in the mirror, shaver in one hand, he thinks maybe he's going to try something different. Perhaps he should grow his hair out. It's not the most significant thing ever, but it's a change in the constant, and to be honest, he kind of misses having longer hair. He puts the shaver down and runs a hand over his buzz.

He inspects the rest of his body. He has a purple bruise in the shape of a fingerprint on his left tricep. Another one on his left hip. He doesn't like them. 

Because it's not like last year, the thrill of walking around with evidence from the previous night, Dele holding on so tight to him that he can't help but leave bruises, even though there isn't supposed to be any. 

Every day Eric grows more and more confused. The more he tries to distance himself from Dele, the more often Dele is making an excuse to be around him. 

\--

"Hey," Winksy whines. "You didn't even look at the screen."

"I'm sure it was funny," Eric assures him. Eric watches as Jan puts a comforting hand on Winsky's knee. 

"Eric's being a sour sport," Jan explains to him. 

"Yeah I know," Winksy says, rolling his eyes fondly at Eric. "Toby told me. Mr. Anti-social."

Eric bristles. "Toby needs to keep his mouth shut."

"I don't like mean Eric," Winksy says. 

"Me neither," Jan agrees, looking at Eric with a raised brow. 

Eric is not mean, he may be distant, but he's not mean. Most days he is in a good mood, and most days he does laugh at the memes that Winksy shows Eric on his phone. But there are some days, where Eric wakes up, and he's reminded that there used to be a lump on the right side of his bed and a shower can't get him out of the bad mood. 

"If everyone thinks I'm so mean, why does everyone want to hang out with me?" Eric asks. Why can't everyone just leave him alone?

"You're not usually mean," Winksy explains. He pops a cherry in his mouth. "Just recently. Girl you like ghosted you?"

Eric scoffs. "Impossible." 

"Dele! He's alive!" Winksy cheers, looking behind Eric. He must've come back from physio, or wherever he was, Eric guesses. "You never hang out with us anymore."

"I do!" Dele argues as he sits pointedly not beside Eric, but beside Jan instead. Eric wonders if his phone is finished charging in the other room. 

"You don't," Winksy argues back, not letting it go, looking at Dele then at Eric. "Lovers quarrel?"

He's clearly joking, but Dele chokes on the sip of water he had taken and Eric has to bite his lip from saying, not quite.

"Good joke, Winksy," Jan says. 

"Hey, Eric," Dele says. "Are you coming over tonight?"

Of course, he can't say no. "Okay," Eric says short.

Dele turns to Winksy. "See, we're fine."

"Uh-huh," Winksy doesn't sound convinced. Eric is sure no one else at the table is either. 

When Eric is about to leave to go home, someone grabs him by the arm and down a secluded hallway. That someone is Dele, of course, looking at Eric with big eyes and expectant expression. "You coming tonight, right?"

Eric blinks. He didn't realize Dele had been serious. "Sure. I have things to do when I get home, though, so I'll be a bit late."

"That's fine," Dele shrugs. "Okay, bye."

With that, he's gone.

Jan texts him when he's walking out of the door. What are you going to do at deles house

Eric texts back, _play video games_

Eric sees that Jan starts typing, and then stops, and then sends, _ERIC_.

_Leave me alone Jan_, Eric messages back.

Eric needs to go home. He'll deal with Jan later. Eric needs to clean his kitchen and take a long shower and not think about anything. He's not sure why Jan can't let him do just that.

\--

"Are you hungry?" Dele asks. 

"No, I ate," Eric says. He runs his hands over his jeans-clad thighs. Eric sits on Dele's couch, while Dele is standing and staring at him. He feels stupidly nervous. 

"Ah," Dele says. " Was gonna order something."

"You still can," Eric shrugs. "Just for one."

Dele hums. "Can we watch a movie?"

"Okay," Eric says. "Can I pick?"

"Is it going to be in English?" Dele asks, passing Eric the remote.

"I haven't picked one, yet," Eric says. "Don't worry, if you need help reading the subtitles, I'm right here."

He's already seen the one he picks, at least, he thinks, he won't miss out on the exciting parts with Dele asking him about what's going on every five minutes. It's a mini-series, over in five episodes. Dele walks into his kitchen and comes back with two water bottles. Eric catches his own quickly.

For what it's worth, twenty minutes into the second episode, Dele is still paying attention. It's a good show, of course, but Eric thinks everything he watches is good, so he's not sure what's so different about this one. Eric also notices that in the beginning, Dele was sitting on the chair across from his couch that Eric was sitting on. Then, he complained that the angle wasn't right, so he switched to the couch, on the opposite end. 

Now, their thighs are pressed against each other. Eric wonders if Dele is waiting for him to make a move. 

It's one in the morning now, and Eric didn't make a move, he was going to, but Dele did. They've been kissing for so long, and usually, Eric would fine with it, usually, he would keep kissing Dele until his jaw aches, and then, he would go upstairs with Dele, and they would just fall asleep in his bed. This time, Eric is sure that Dele has invited him over only for one purpose and he's not sure why they're wasting time.

It feels so domestic; Eric feels ill. He pulls away from the kiss to scan his eyes over Dele's face and torso. "Do you want to--?"

Dele nods. "Can you--just--"

"What?"

Dele's cheeks are dusty pink. He grabs Eric's hand and puts it on his crotch. Eric nods in understanding, unties Dele's sweats for him. Whoever has undone Eric's work with Dele, whoever has made him ashamed to be open with Eric, he would like to have a word with.

Was it Eric? 

He doesn't know. He's given Dele everything he wants, hasn't he?

"Want me to get you off?" Eric asks. He pulls Dele's sweats down. "Hm?"

Dele whines, but he doesn't answer. 

"Not going to do anything if you don't tell me," Eric says. 

"Yes."

Eric licks the palm of his hand. Dele's body jumps when one of Eric finally hands wraps around his dick, giving him a slow stroke at first, before squeezing tighter, making it a little rougher than Dele usually would like. Dele doesn't seem to mind this time, though, he's already thrusting up into Eric's hand, and it's barely been two minutes. Dele's whining, like he wants more and Eric won't give it to him. He's making noises only for Eric, only noises that Eric gets to hear. 

Eric slows his hand down when he notices that Dele is close, and Dele lets out a "please," Eric can't deny him. He knows it won't take long, Eric adds just a little twist of his wrist and rubs his thumb over the slit of Dele's dick. 

The next thing Eric does is idiotic; it's something that he knows he should never do. He bites where Dele's neck is exposed, hard enough to mark, and sucks on it. He feels Dele come between their bodies with a cry.

When Eric pulls away, Dele is catching his breath, but he's also looking at Eric like he wants something more. Eric can't give him more, though, not tonight.

"Let me," Dele says, gesturing toward where Eric is hard himself.

"No, it's okay," Eric says. "I should go home; it's really late."

Dele looks confused. "You don't want to come?"

"I'm tired," Eric says.

Dele looks like a mix between hurt and annoyed. Eric can't look at him. "Alright. You should probably go now. I'm tired too."

"I'll see you around," Eric says. Unless Dele comes down with an awful virus, Eric is pretty sure he's going to see him tomorrow. 

Dele almost kisses him goodbye. Eric almost misses it, the way he leans forward, in front of Eric's face. He doesn't He pulls himself back like he's been shocked, bites his lips and looks down at where his bottoms are pooled on the floor. The t-shirt he's wearing, Eric's, he's sure of it, he got it in Lisbon when he accidentally stained the original one he'd been wearing, is big enough to cover him. He looks quite small like this, tired and sated. Eric wants to hold him. 

He doesn't.

When he finally leaves, Eric wonders if he should get off in his car. Then a few moments later, he's filled with shame about the amount of time it took for him to convince himself that jerking off in his car is not a good idea.

\--

The more time that Eric spends on the bench, the more he wonders if he's ever going to play. When he starts getting better, something comes up again. Then sometimes it's not his fault. Sometimes he doesn't know why he hasn't played a single minute this month. He's not at his fittest, he knows he could do a bit more, but a childish part of him thinks this is also unfair. 

Not only whatever the fuck he's doing with Dele messing with his head, but so is this. He knows some days, there's a dark cloud over his head, and he doesn't want to talk to anyone, doesn't want to see anyone. Though Dele manages to slip through the little crack that Eric accidentally leaves open, he's over more often than not, nowadays, after training, after team hangouts. 

Sometimes he's just in the neighbourhood; sometimes he wants only to chat (never ends in just talking), sometimes he's blunt about what he wants from Eric. 

Eric is 100% this is not how friendships are supposed to work; he doesn't know. It's almost like when they first started this, so long ago, except it's not exciting sneaking around, Eric has no afterglow, he's never around Dele longer than he needs to be.

Eric knows this is just going downhill, and he needs to tell Dele to fuck off or else they're going to be in serious trouble, but also, the thought in the back of his head, is that he needs this. 

**September 2019**

There are three familiar knocks at the hotel door, and Eric almost drops the hand he has. "Shit."

"Who is that?" Jan asks.

Eric doesn't know why Dele asked to see him tonight, before a match, even when they were whatever they were, that was something they didn't really do. They're probably going just to get each other off, and Eric can do that in the shower. He's not sure why Dele is coming over. 

Eric gets up from his seat and ignores a confused Jan.

"I completely forgot," Eric says when he swings the door open.

Dele looks nervous as fuck, and Eric almost asks him what's wrong. 

"I can come back—"Dele says. And maybe any other day, Eric would say alright, he'd rather be alone, but there's something about Dele that's telling Eric that he needs this tonight, and Eric can never deprive Dele of what he needs.

"No," Eric says firmly. He needs to come up with something quickly so Jan can bug off. "I'll just--"

"Jan," Eric calls behind him. While he does, he lets Dele enter his hotel room. "I forgot Dele, and I were supposed to watch this new foreign movie."

Jan looks like he doesn't buy it at all, looking between the two of them with suspicion but he still smiles at Dele. Eric wants to kill him. "Hi, Dele."

Dele waves at Jan like a kid who just got scolded and has to greet other adults after. 

"I'm guessing you guys want me to leave," Jan concludes.

"Yep," Eric says shortly. If Jan would get the fuck out of here. 

"You gonna be alright?" Jan asks suddenly. He's looking at the both of them. He's mostly giving Eric a 'we're going to talk about this' look and Eric would much rather not talk about it with Jan.

"You going to stand by the door all day?" Eric says, instead. 

Jan flips Eric the bird before he leaves Eric's room. When Eric turns back around, Dele is standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. Eric really can't pinpoint why Dele looks so unsure like he doesn't have the confidence to do this. 

Eric just wants to hold him, ask him everything he's been thinking in the past three months. Eric looks at Dele expectantly, now. Dele is going to need to tell Eric what he needs.

"I want you to fuck me," Dele says. 

Eric huffs out a breath that he hadn't meant to. He wants. "Okay, I can do that."

"Okay," Dele echoes. He starts to play with the zipper of his jeans. Another time, Eric would undress him, kiss every part of Dele's skin that he unravels. This time, Eric feels impatient watching Dele still stand in the hotel room clothed. 

"Condoms?" Eric asks. "I didn't bring any."

Dele blinks. "Neither did I."

Well, fuck. Eric knows he suggested to use them again, but now he can't find a reason to care. Before Eric gets too lost in his thoughts, Dele quickly says, "It's fine, though, if--if you are?"

Eric nods mutely. 

Dele starts to fidget again. "Okay, let' s--" 

Eric snorts. He doesn't know why, but he's anxious too. "Just get on the bed, Del." 

Dele walks backward until the backs of his legs hit the bed, and he lets himself fall back onto the bed. Eric follows him toward the bed and falls forward on top of him, and his face is so close to Dele. Eric could kiss him. He really wants to. 

"You showered when you got back to your room, right?" Eric asks, a sudden idea in his head. 

Dele frowns. "Yes, wh—" 

"I'm going to eat you out," Eric announces. 

"Fuck, Eric," Dele whispers. He doesn't waste time shoving himself out of his jeans and boxers. Eric can't hide his smirk seeing that. Eric lowers himself onto the floor. He grabs Dele by his spread thighs to pull him closer to the edge of the mattress. Eric presses his fingers into the flesh of Dele's bum and blows air against his hole just to watch the reflex. 

When Eric prods with his tongue, Dele gasps. Eric knows he's the last one to do this to him. He wonders. He takes his time with this; he wants Dele to enjoy it so much.

In the corner of his eye, he notices that Dele wraps a hand around himself. Eric quickly knows his hand away. He sits up a little straighter. "Don't touch yourself, yet. You want me to fuck you, right?"

"Oh god," Dele says.

\-- 

Something about this is different, the way they're holding onto each other. Eric is fucking him, but it's different, it's like he could sense that something was off with Dele, that he needed something softer than what they've been acquainted with lately. Eric's still got a rough grip in Dele's hair, but this time his chest is pressed against Dele's back, and his lips are pressed to Dele's ear. Not kissing, though, just pressed against his ear, breathing harshly. He's so close; he wants Dele wants to turn his head and just kiss him.

He does.

Eric freezes for a moment, while his brain starts to formulate all the reasons this is a bad idea. He ignores it, and Dele, Eric finally kisses back, because he's missed Dele's lips. He's missed just kissing him for no fucking reason other than because he loves him.

It's not a proper kiss, it's sloppy and mostly breathing into each other's mouths, and Eric laughs before he pulls away, admiring Dele's side profile. "It's so hard to kiss you like this way," Eric says. He wishes he'd turn around.

Eric wishes he can see Dele's face right now, wants to look at all the beautiful expressions that Dele makes while Eric fucks him. Dele is so gorgeous, and he's hiding his face in the pillow like he doesn't want Eric to see it, and Eric doesn't know why.

"I'm gonna come," Eric says suddenly.

"Me too," Dele says as he wraps a hand around himself.

"Del," Eric says in Dele's ear. "Do you want me to come inside?"

"Fuck," Dele moans, coming all over his fist and Eric's sheets.

Eric comes no later than ten seconds after, just from the sheer thought of coming inside Dele. Almost like reclaiming him. Eric collapses on top of him. He knows he's crushing Dele, and he needs to get off of him, but he's also gotta catch his breath. Back then, Dele would've already shoved Eric off of him (probably onto the floor) and comment on his weight. 

Moments later, when Eric is out of the bed, and he pulls Dele toward the bathroom and into the showers with him, they don't talk about it. When Dele puts shampoo in Eric's hair, Eric lets him. 

\--

"You're growing your hair out," Dele observes quietly when he's beside Eric in bed. There's plenty of space between them, but it still feels quite intimate, and it makes Eric yearn for more.

Eric blinks. He hadn't expected Dele to bring it up. "I am."

Eric watches as Dele flexes his fingers, like he wants to do something with them, probably run his fingers through Eric's hair like he used to. Eric wonders, if like him, Dele regrets how they went about this. He wonders if Dele thinks it was still the right decision to separate. He doesn't know; he doesn't ask. The gestures they used to do as friends that turned intimate, Eric can no longer return to. Eric almost laughs to himself, the vain hope that maybe something is still there. Dele is a grown man who is also a professional footballer. He said so to Eric, even.

"Got someone to impress, Diet?" Dele jokes.

"Maybe," Eric says, turning toward Dele. "Maybe I've met some girl in London."

Dele's expression falls. "You have?"

"I'm kidding," Eric says. "You know I can't, Del." 

Dele looks away from Eric, and up at the ceiling. Eric wants to scream. How could Dele think that Eric is seeing other people? He's still trying to get used to his daily routines without Dele. He inches closer to Dele, who's still looking anywhere but Eric and drops a kiss to his shoulder. Dele doesn't react, but he doesn't move closer either.

"You going back to your room soon?"

Dele swallows. "Yeah. Should probably go, now."

"You can stay if you want," Eric shrugs. "You're probably going to fall asleep in about five minutes, anyway."

Eric is surprised at how quickly Dele says, "Yeah, good idea."

Eric closes his own eyes to try and go to sleep. It works for a little bit until Dele is poking him in the arm. He opens an eye to find Dele staring at him. "Eric."

"What."

"I have to talk to you about something?" Dele says.

"You don't sound so sure," Eric jokes, fond, although the sound of Dele talking to him about 'something' is making his heart beat a mile a minute. 

"I am," Dele whispers. He's trying to sport a stern expression, one to tell Eric this isn't a laughing matter, but his eyes are droopy, he's snuggling further into the mattress. Maybe he's really half asleep and doesn't know what he's saying. 

"Tell me in the morning, love," Eric says softly. "Okay?"

Dele seems satisfied with that answer. "Mmkay," Dele mumbles sleepily. 

\-- 

When Eric wakes up, it's to knocking on his door. For a moment, he's afraid he slept in until he realizes the sun is not even out yet. Dele is wrapped around him and holding so tight Eric doesn't think he could escape if he wanted to. 

The knocking persists, and Dele finally opens his eyes. He entangles himself from Eric and curls in on himself. 

"Are you going to answer?" Dele asks.

"Yes," Eric says, sitting up.

"Okay," Dele mumbles sleepily. He settles back into the burrow of the pillows and throws the blanket tighter around him. Eric hopes it's some random drunk person knocking at the door, he really hopes it's not one of his teammates.

Harry Kane is at the door. In hindsight, Eric probably should've just slammed it in his face. 

** April 2017 **

He doesn't know how they got here; Eric was only supposed to drop Dele off after their dinner and movies and be on his way home. They're in Dele's driveway, but instead, they're in Eric's backseat, and Eric somehow got caught in arguing with Dele about his head giving skills. Which, Eric doesn't even remember how they got onto that topic. He swears every conversation he has with Dele goes off the rails.

Now he's sucking Dele off. He knows this is stupid, and he mostly just wanted to win an argument, but he can't help enjoy the way Dele is enjoying this. He can't stop twitching, and his fingers flex in Eric's hair. 

Eric pulls off. Dele opens his eyes to glare at Eric. "Why the fuck did you stop?"

When Eric looks at Dele's face, he almost loses the confidence to ask. But he wants it, can't stop thinking about it.

"Let me fuck you," Eric says. It comes out as more of a question that Eric would've liked.

Dele looks like a deer caught in headlights on, and maybe that's the part that's too far, but Eric knows if you don't ask for what you want there's a zero percent chance you're going to get it.

"Yeah, Eric, please," Dele says finally. "I want it."

"Alright, babe," Eric says, watching the way Dele blushes. He maneuvers over to his glove compartment, where he's got the lube and two condoms if he's lucky. 

Dele snorts, watching him. "Were you planning to get lucky tonight?"

"Of course," Eric says. "You don't understand how long I've been waiting for this."

He meant it as a joke, but it comes out as if he means it, and he realizes he does. He's wanted Dele for so long, without really realizing it, and he finally gets to have him, even if just for once. 

Eric is very fortunate.

Eric pulls Dele's boxers down and off before settling as comfortably as he can. It may be an SUV, but the backseat was not suited for two adult men to be lying down on.

"Gonna open you up with my fingers," Eric tells Dele. "You ever done that?"

Dele shakes his head. Eric swallows. "It's gonna be uncomfortable at first."

Dele smirks. "I know. You told me."

Eric bites at Dele's hip. Dele is referring to Eric's first time with a guy, an embarrassing story at that. "You're not funny."

"I have multiple videos of you laughing at my jokes, but okay," Dele sighs happily.

"Shut up," Eric says, coating his index finger with lube. He spreads Dele's left leg further apart before he rubs his thumb against Dele's hole, watching the way he jumps at the cold sensation. He pushes his finger in and Dele makes a grunting noise.

"Feels weird," Dele says even though he opens his legs wider. 

"But it doesn't hurt?" Eric twists his finger.

"No, just feels like your finger is up my arse," Dele comments so nonchalantly that Eric barks a laugh out loud. He thinks he should add another, and he does, and now Dele hisses, his hole squeezing around Eric in reflex. After a few moments, Dele finally relaxes, and he stretches his fingers out. Dele moans and Eric bites his lip. He's been hard ever since he put his mouth on Dele's cock, and Dele won't stop writhing around on the backseats and letting out quiet bitten back moans.

"You like it?" Eric asks.

"Yeah," Dele says breathily. "I feel a little… full."

Eric grins. "Oh, yeah? Gonna feel even better with my dick inside you." 

"Oh my god, don't say stuff like that."

He crooks his two fingers, and he finally brushes against Dele's spot, he can tell from the way the boy underneath him jolts. Eric didn't realize how much he'd like this. After the third finger, Eric thinks that Dele is relaxed now and that he's ready, but he still asks him. Dele nods emphatically, and Eric tries his hardest not to laugh.

When Eric finally lines himself up and pushes in, he stops because Dele's face is twisted into something painful, his eyes are squeezed shut, and Eric doesn't want that at all, wants Dele to really enjoy this.

"You okay?" Eric asks softly. 

Dele only groans which worries Eric even more. Eric sits up straighter, gently rubs his hand along Dele's left hip. He's about to pull out, when Dele only just wraps his legs around Eric's waist, locking his ankles together. "You're not even all the way in," Dele says. Eric doesn't say anything to that, doesn't make any movements. 

"Oh my god, Dier," Dele moans in annoyance. "Can you move? Or are you just going to stare at my face all this time?"

Eric smiles. He snaps his hips forward, watches the way Dele says 'oh fuck.' He moves slowly at first, even though it really isn't helping him, just wants Dele to get used to the feeling. Eric could get used to the feeling of Dele around his cock. Dele starts to move his hips down to meet Eric's slow thrusts, and Eric takes that as a cue to speed up, to a more relentless pace. Dele's moans begin to escape past his bitten lips and wraps his arms around Eric's neck to bring him closer.

"Eric," Dele moans.

"Yeah," Eric looks at Dele. He looks dazed. Eric can't believe he hasn't realized before how beautiful Dele is. He really is gorgeous. 

"Faster," Dele demands, and who is Erice to deny him? He picks up a more brutal pace, one that has Dele alternating between Eric's name and fuck. His name sounds so delicious rolling off the tip of Dele's tongue. He never wants to hear Dele stop saying it. He relishes in the way Dele whimpers when Eric brushes against his prostate, the way he alternates between holding onto the headrest of the driver's seat and Eric. 

"You feel so good," Eric grunts.

"Thanks, I know," Dele says with as much of a smirk as he can muster. Eric kisses him to shut him up. Dele loses all his bravado again when Eric changes his rhythm. 

"You were made for this," Eric says, lips pressed against Dele's ear. Eric feels Dele's whole body shiver; he almost comes right there and then. "Knew you'd like this. You know how many people want to be in my spot?"

It's mostly dirty talk, but the way Dele's moaning, the way he knows just when to squeeze around Eric's cock and make him stutter in his movements, Eric can't believe it's his first time. Maybe Dele has thought about doing this before; perhaps he's thought about Eric fucking him before. Maybe this is something that Dele has always wanted too.

"Shut up," Dele whines. 

"Are you close?" Eric asks, before Dele answers, Eric wraps a hand tightly around his cock.

"Eric, fuck," Dele says. "Touch me."

"I am," Eric laughs; he flicks his wrist, just a bit and Dele is coming. Eric comes no later than a minute later, a couple of rough thrusts. He tries to pull out as slowly as he can, watching the grimace on Dele's face. Eric leans forward and kisses between the furrow of his brows.

"I feel like jelly, and gross," Dele says as he sits up, then when he looks at Eric, says "Get that stupid look off your face."

"What look?" Eric says, but he can't hold back the grin that spreads across his face. He imagines he must look smug. He doesn't mind.

Dele shoves him. "We get it; you're packing heat."

Eric smiles brightly. 

Dele rolls his eyes. He looks around the car. "Where's my shirt?"

"In the front," Eric isn't even finished what he's saying when Dele climbs into the front of the car from the backseat. Eric wants to complain, but he supposes it's better than getting out of the vehicle in your boxers. Dele dresses in the front and throws Eric's jeans and sweater at his face before Eric gets the chance to ask for them.

"We're still going to mini-golf next week?" Dele asks. 

Eric falters while putting his belt buckle back on. Is that a date? "Yeah, 'course."

Dele deflates. Like he thought Eric was going to say no, or stop being his friend or something. What the fuck. "Okay, good."

"Good," Eric says. He doesn't know why, but he pulls Dele's hand into his lap and laces their fingers together. When he looks at Dele, Dele is looking down at their hands together with a soft smile on his face. Dele squeezes their fingers a little tighter together. They stay like that for a bit, silent and just looking at their hands in Eric's lap. Eric feels like a teenager; he doesn't even know where the fuck this is all coming from. 

"I quite enjoyed that," Dele says quietly, looking out the window.

"Why do you sound so surprised?" Eric asks, mildly offended.

"Well, I didn't expect this to happen!" Dele says, his cheeks are pink. "But it's good."

"Me neither," Eric says. 

"I should probably go," Dele says. 

"Yeah, you need your beauty rest," Eric says.

"I do," Dele agrees. They're still holding hands. Eric loosens his grip, and Dele slips his hand out. 

"I'm really going to go now," Dele says.

"Okay," Eric says. "I'll see you at training?"

Dele rolls his eyes. "Duh."

Two hours ago, Eric would have never thought this could ever happen. Not even in his wildest dreams.

After five minutes of sitting in the car and looking at his steering wheel, thinking about Dele's lips, Eric finally realizes what he's just done. 

  1. He's just had sex with Dele. 
  2. Then Dele asked if they were still on for minigolf? 
  3. Eric said, yes.
  4. Eric and Dele held hands for like, five minutes straight.
  5. They kissed as Dele left the car.

Eric is still parked in Dele's driveway, and he should really get the fuck out of here. He finally starts his car and backs out, which no real destination. He guesses if he goes home, he would probably go insane with his own thoughts. He didn't even fucking know this sort of thing was possible. Dating your teammate. Your best mate.

It's all happened so fast.

When he's satisfied with the destination. He pulls out his phone and texts, _i'm outside plz come out._

He only has to wait about ten minutes until Jan comes out of his house in his sleep clothes. He looks mildly annoyed. Eric smiles sheepishly at him, in hopes he'll soften up.

"What is it?" Jan says as he opens the passenger door. He settles in, curling up in on himself. Eric is pretty sure he was about to go to sleep before Eric texted him.

"Me and Dele … you know," Eric says vaguely.

"I think I have a clue but who knows with you two," Jan says. 

"Don't make me say it," Eric says.

"Are you five?"

"Shush," Eric says.

"I was not expecting that, when I saw your text."

"Tell me about it," Eric says. 

"That's… great?" Jan sounds unsure, Eric has to laugh.

"We're going to mini-golf next week," Eric looks down at his hands. He's smiling a little, too.

"Yeah?" Jan has a small smile on his face. "That's awesome. I think?"

Eric shrugs. "Where do I go from here?"

"Not sure," Jan says. "Dele can barely dress, though. You have this in the bag, Eric."

"Shut up," Eric says, just because he feels like he has to defend Dele. He supposes he knows more about dating men than Dele does, which is not a whole lot, either. He guesses he will just see where it takes him. Eric has never been a fan of labels; he supposes he can just go with the flow. He doesn't really need to talk about it with Dele. He likes that.


	3. The Middle Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I am,” Dele agrees. “Only yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> almost there, folks

**July 2017**

Eric manages to invite Dele last minute to his family home.

Eric thinks, he should’ve done it right away, but he hadn’t really thought about it. He had, but he mostly thought of all the reasons why it would have been stupid to ask: they’ve only been doing this thing for a few months was the main one. Even though they only know Dele as his friend, he was so sure it would be awkward for the two of them to be doing activities with all of Eric’s family.

It’s not until he turns around from where he’s packing his suitcase to a very dejected and quiet Dele, still lying down in the middle of Eric’s bed and looking at the luggage like it’s cursed him. One who hasn’t made a single comment about Eric’s clothing choices, Eric tilts his head curiously.

“You okay?”

“Do you not want me to come to Portugal?” Dele asks suddenly.

Eric carefully thinks about what to say next. “Do you want to come to Portugal?”

Dele crosses his arms. “Don’t feel like you have to--”  
  
“Oh, shut up,” Eric interrupts him quickly. “I _do_ want you to come.”

“I’m just _saying_,” Dele continues again. “I’m not trying to force you into anything.”

“You can never make me do anything I don’t want to do,” Eric says. It’s true, for all that everyone says Eric does everything Dele asks of him, it’s because he wants to.

“I have to warn you, though, we’re not going to get any alone time,” Eric says. “Since we’re supposed to be—“

“I get it,” Dele interrupts. This part is always awkward. “Makes sense. I like your family anyway.”

Eric beams. “They like you too.”

“Then we can go to Mykonos,” Dele continues. “You won’t have to come back.”

“I’d probably miss you too much, anyway,” Eric admits.

“It’d only be a week,” Dele snorts, but he’s blushing.

“Who was just in a poor mood about me leaving?” Eric puts his hands on his hips.

“I don’t recall,” Dele says, but he’s grinning too.

“You don’t, huh?” Eric asks as he climbs onto the bed.

Dele says instead, “I’m tired, can we nap?”

“Okay,” Eric shrugs. “Move over.”

Dele does and puts himself under the covers. He lifts up the other half for Eric slip under, and Eric does, before he puts an arm over Dele’s waist.

“You need to pack, you should probably go home,” Eric tells Dele. “You can’t just wear swim trunks and ripped jeans in Portugal.”

“I’ve got clothes,” Dele says. “You do have laundry machines in Portugal, don’t you?”

Eric snorts. “Yes.”

Dele nuzzles into Eric’s neck, places a kiss in the hollow. “Okay, shh. I actually need to sleep.”

“Shouldn’t have gone out last night,” Eric chastises.

“Not everyone’s boring like you,” Dele mumbles. “Maybe you should’ve come out. Had quite the dance moves.”

“Babe, if I wanted to see you dancing like a slut, I would’ve asked for asked for a striptease right here.”

“Eric,” Dele says as calmly as Eric has ever heard him. Eric can’t hold back his grin. “When I wake up from this nap, I’m gonna murder you.”

\---  
Eric feels ten times lighter when he gets off the plane like he usually does. As much as he loves playing in and for England, he does miss Portugal a lot of the time. It was his home, even though he’s building a new one, it will always be his home. Dele says he’s hungry and no, they cannot wait until Eric’s brother arrives to pick them up, they need to look for food, now. Eric goes to find something quick for Dele.

His brother finally does arrive, when Dele is stuffing his face with fast food, refusing to share with Eric, falls asleep in the car, and has Eric’s brother cooing. He’s so talented.

Dele pauses from where he was unpacking his toiletries from his bag and walks over to the side of the room that Eric is standing on. He loops his fingers through Eric’s belt loops and pulls him so that they’re chest to chest.

“I’m happy I’m here,” Dele says.

“It’s been about-- two hours,” Eric snorts.

“And I’m already having a good time,” Dele shrugs, and surprisingly he’s not even embarrassed about it. Dele can be so candid like that sometimes.

Eric can’t take it. He has to kiss Dele before he keeps going and Eric cries or something stupid like that. He leans forward to catch Dele’s lips in a kiss, and he can feel Dele smiling into it. He tries to deepen the kiss, biting at Dele’s lips, that is, demanding entry into his mouth, until he hears the door clicked open and Eric tries to pull away as fast as he can, but Dele’s still got his hands in the loops, and when Eric trips over his own luggage, he takes Dele with him. Eric breaks Dele’s fall, thankfully, but Eric is sure his own ass his bruised.

Eric’s brother, who peeks his head through the crack he made, tilts his head at them. “Wrestling?”

“Yes,” Eric says immediately. “I’m winning.”

“I’ll get him next time,” Dele says. He extracts himself from Eric, and moves at least two metres away from him. Eric hates that.

“Lunch is ready, you little kids.”

“We’ll be out,” Eric says, getting up. He closes the door after his brother leaves and raises his eyebrows at Dele who’s still on the floor. “I told you.” He has to wonder if Dele is already starting to regret being here.

“My brother would be one hundred times worse,” Dele shrugs.

\--  
The next four days are perfect, Eric thinks. His family has a bunch of things planned to do, so he and Dele are never bored. Eric has a lot of photos of Dele taking pictures of things he sees outside. Okay, sure, he gets close to zero alone time with Dele, and he’s a little tired of having to translate, but it’s still fun.

Eric still gives him a peck when he wakes up and they stay in to chat for as long as they possibly can.

It’s not until he thinks the fourth night is really getting to him. Granted half the conversation being had is not in English, but Dele has tapped out of dinner twenty minutes in. He looks exhausted, probably from the heat and walking up and down the past four days. He can’t really blame Dele.

“I think Dele is a little tired, no?” Eric’s mum says to Eric in Portuguese.

Dele’s head pops up at his name, and he looks at Eric questioningly. Eric smiles, assuringly at Dele, as to let him know there is nothing wrong happening.

“I think he is tired,” Eric agrees in English. “Del, would you rather go back or do you want to go to the show tonight?”

Dele shrugs. “Whatever you want.”

“Yeah, but you’re exhausted,” Eric says, he hopes his face is conveying what he is trying to put down. Eric lowers his voice. “The house will be so quiet for the first time, no one there. We’ll be alone. You can get some rest.”

“Oh,” Dele says, and then, “_Oh_!”

Jesus, Dele doesn’t know subtlety if it hit him in the face, Eric thinks.

“We are going to go back,” Eric says to his mother.

His mum coos at Dele. “He is like a baby.”

“I know,” Eric says in a tone he hopes isn’t too fond.

“But at least stay for dessert,” one of his brother’s says. “The menu looks good.”

“Yeah, you want dessert, Del?”

“Okay,” Dele feigns yawning. Eric has to hide his smile behind the dessert menu.

Dele says ‘he’ll have what Eric gets,’ which means that Eric only orders one slice of cheesecake because he knows Dele will end up abandoning his own for Eric’s because somehow Eric’s ‘tastes better.’ Dele happily eats about three-quarters of the little slice, before Eric grabs the fork from his loose grip.

“Hey,” Dele says.

“Can I eat it?” Eric asks. “Am I allowed to eat?”

Dele rolls his eyes. “I guess. You should’ve gotten another slice.”

“This was my slice,” Eric argues.

“Um, no,” Dele wags a finger. “It was _our_ slice.”

“Eric share your food,” Eric’s sister says. He hadn’t realized they were bickering loud enough for the other side of the table to hear. “So greedy.”

“I know,” Dele says exasperated. “You should see him when we go to the movie theatres together.”

“Can we go?” Eric says. “I don’t appreciate this.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dele says, and before Eric can stop him, he shoves what’s left of the slice of cake into his mouth. Eric’s jaw drops. “So delicious.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Eric says grumpily.

It takes another ten minutes to say goodbye to everyone because somehow a new topic comes up and Dele just loves to chat. He’s glad, though, that Dele has finally come out of his comfort zone and seems to be really enjoying himself. Eric just hopes.

“_Finally_,” Dele groans. They start to make their way down the street. He wraps an arm around Eric’s neck and brings his lips to Eric’s ear. “I thought I might’ve had to tell poor Mrs. Dier that we need to leave so that I can ride her son into his mattress.”

Eric almost trips over his own feet at that, nearly taking Dele down with him. He’s a little drunk and very turned on, and Dele’s lips against the shell of his ear isn’t helping.

“Shut up, will ya?” Eric asks. “Trying not to come in my pants.”

“Take me home,” Dele says. Eric knows that he means, take him back to his family’s house, but something about it makes Eric feel warm.

“And what?” Eric asks. “What do you want me to do to you when we get there?”

“God, fuck me,” Dele says. “I miss you so much.”

“I’m right here,” Eric says. He maneuvers them until he’s got Dele’s back flat against a building, his palm pressed against the wall above Dele’s shoulder. He knows this is risky, it’s only nine at night, but Eric feels like he doesn’t care.

“You know what I mean,” Dele says, voice dipping low. “We haven’t fucked in ages.”

“Four days,” Eric smirks.

“Too long,” Dele frowns.

“You are insatiable,” Eric says.

“Eric, it’s been _four_ days,” Dele says. “Not two hours.”

“Yeah, but even after two hours—“

“Oh!” Dele interrupts him. “A cab!”

Dele flails his arms around to try and get the attention of the driver, which he does successfully. When he pulls Eric into the car after him, he tells the driver, “Gracias.”

“You’re cute,” Eric says.

“Thanks,” Dele snorts.

Dele leaves him alone while Eric gives the driver the address, but as soon as Eric settles back into the seat, Dele curls up into Eric’s arm. He’s not satisfied with that, so he pulls Eric’s arm over his shoulder and tucks himself into Eric’s chest.

“Del—“

“Shh,” Dele says.

Eric doesn’t check to see if the driver is looking back. If he is, he hopes he doesn’t watch the Premier League and that he can see that Dele is inebriated and that’s why he’s doing this. Totally explains it.

—  
They rushed inside, and Dele started with taking off his socks in the middle of the hallway, and Eric had to hiss, _Dele_. Eric doesn’t know what his family would think of a trail of Dele’s clothing leading to Eric’s room.

Eric is so glad Dele hasn’t lost sight of his goals tonight, he was happy to let Dele push him back onto the bed, Dele climb over him, and straddle his hips. Eric would be glad to let Dele messily get himself off rub against Eric while clothed, but—

“Didn’t you say something about riding me?” Eric asks. “I wanna see that.”

Dele stutters in his movements. “_Yes_.”

Eric reaches for the top drawer in the night table, the unused items. He throws the bottle at Dele, who obviously wasn’t expecting it, and it drops back against Eric’s chest.

“Baby,” Eric says. “Can you get yourself ready for me? I want to see it.”

Dele pauses searches for something in Eric’s face that would give away that he’s just joking, but Eric has never been more serious in his life. After a few moments, Dele finally nods and picks up the bottle.

Eric watches, open mouthed, as Dele slicks up his two fingers and reaches behind himself. Eric can’t see much, but from Dele’s face, it’s good. Eric can’t help the moan he makes.

Dele is clearly eager to move onto the main event, he’s already rocking back on his fingers in a set rhythm, Eric has to wonder if he’s really being thorough with it.

“Could probably do with one more, no?” Eric asks. Dele shrugs, still rocking in Eric’s lap. Eric takes the lube that Dele dropped on his stomach and pours it over two digits. Dele looks confused before Eric’s rubbing his fingers against Dele’s rim before pressing in. Eric is aware of his size. The last thing he wants is Dele feeling any kind of way that isn’t pleasant, especially when it can be avoided. That’s precisely why he’s got his two fingers alongside Dele’s. The shocked moan Dele makes, makes it even better, though.

“E-Eric,” Dele stammers.

“Think you’re ready, babe?” Eric asks. He doesn’t think Dele could pull out his own fingers any faster. Eric pulls out his own while laughing a little until Dele rubs his fingers across Eric’s chest.

“That’s disgusting,” Eric whines.

“You’re disgusting,” Dele says back childishly.

“Okay, come on, let’s go,” Eric says. “I’m about to fall asleep.”

Dele flicks him. “Ready.”

“Okay?” Eric asks.

Dele nods. He grabs Eric’s cock, guides it in, and sinks down onto Eric’s lap.

Eric blinks up at him for a moment, stunned. “You feel so,” he breathes out, he can’t even finish. “Fuck, Dele.” He has to use all the restraint he has not to buck his hips up.

“Thanks,” Dele says shakily, pressing his palms flat against Eric’s chest. “I know.”

Eric drops his head back against the pillows and groans when Dele finally starts to rock his hips. He reaches up, pulls Dele down, to bring his mouth into a kiss. Dele moans into it, presses himself against Eric’s chest, kisses Eric desperately, almost helpless, circles his hips so steadily.

“Eric,” Dele murmurs, and then he pulls away completely, one palm flat on Eric’s chest, pushing him to lie back down. Dele starts to really rocks down with a purpose now, again, a slow yet relentless rhythm. Eric can’t hold back anymore, presses his feet flat against the mattress, he lifts his own hips, just tries to meet his rhythm as best he can. He’s so fucking glad they’re alone, he doesn’t think he could be quiet if he tried. Dele feels so good like this, and as much as he was making fun of Dele for complaining about the four days they hadn’t fucked, he’s really feeling it, now. He’s just moaning Dele’s name over and over again. His fingers are digging into both sides of Dele’s waist.

Eric can feel that he’s close, wraps one hand that was initially on Dele’s waist around Dele’s dick; starts a rhythm that somewhat matches his thrusts.

Dele clenches tight around him, breathes, “Eric, please--”

Eric knows the grip on Dele’s waist is so tight that it’s going to bruise. They’re going to the beach the day after tomorrow. He doesn’t care. “Dele,” Eric says. “I love fucking you. Better than anyone I’ve ever had.”

“Oh fuck,” Dele cries out. “Baby, please.”

“You’re mine,” Eric says, he wishes it were entirely accurate. “Don’t forget that.”

“Oh my god, _what_,” Dele says, freezing up before he comes first with a whimper, falling forward onto Eric’s choice. Eric can feel himself tightening up, knows he needs to come before it starts to get uncomfortable, and it’s only a couple of thrusts before he’s coming inside.

“Oh my god,” Dele says as Eric is catching his breath. “That was something else.”

“Yeah,” Eric blinks, surprised.

“What were you saying, before?” Dele asks. He’s tracing shapes with his index finger on Eric’s collarbone.

_You’re mine_. “It was just--dirty talk.”

Dele sits up, grimacing before he fixes Eric with a glare. Eric should probably pull out. He quickly apologizes to Dele with a comforting hand against his side when he does.

“I know I’m smart, but I can’t learn Portuguese in four days,” Dele says in a light tone.

Eric is confused now. “Wait, what?”

“Can you just tell me what you said?”

“Oh,” Eric says, he’s still a little tipsy. He hadn’t realized he wasn’t even speaking English. He smirks. “You liked that?”

“_Eric_.”

“Fine, fine, I already know the answer,” Eric says. “I said you’re mine.”

“I am,” Dele agrees. “Only yours.”

Eric drank wine. That’s why his face feels so hot right at this moment. He moves Dele to the side before climbing out of bed. He does a double take before he goes out into the hallway. The house is still quiet because of course, his family is still out, but Eric has to check just in case. He doesn’t take too long before he comes back with the cloth, and he locks his bedroom door before crawls back into the bed.

It may look suspicious, Eric supposes, but his siblings have been walking in and out of his room like it’s nobody’s business and what if they happened to walk in while Dele was changing or something? There are boundaries to be made.

After they’ve cleaned up, and Eric misses the hamper by a wide mark after he throws the cloth, he settles in behind Dele, throws his arm over his side, pulls him closer to his body. He knows they’re not going to wake up like that, no way with the heat and the amount each of them squirm, but he likes falling asleep like this.

—  
When Eric next wakes up, it’s 7 in the morning, and his phone is ringing.

“Hello,” he answers sleepily.

“Eric, did you forget we have a full day of things to do?” Eric’s sister’s chirpy voice says into his ear. Eric did forget to set the alarm. Now that he lifts his head from the pillow, he can hear people moving around outside the room. Eric feels half guilty, but also half glad he can get himself out of this without trying too hard.

“I did forget,” Eric says.

“Ma is going to be so annoyed with you two,” his sister scolds. “We’re leaving now, we’ll see you later.”  
Eric falls right back asleep.

When they both wake up again, Eric fucks Dele on his back, and they’re still so sleepy, and it’s slower than usual, and Eric kisses Dele everywhere, softly. Eric wants this all the time, he thinks. He wants this every single summer. He wants to take Dele home and make love to him under the sun, no one needs to know, except the two of them. It’s good like this.

Then Eric sends Dele off to shower so that he can do some work in the kitchen. It’s a quick breakfast that he whips up really, for the two of them, but it’s a little better than eating out every day.

“Feed me,” Dele says when Eric brings it to him.

“Yeah, right,” Eric laughs. “You feed me, I made you breakfast.”

Dele picks up a grape from the bowl of fruits and presses it against Eric’s lips. Eric raises a brow at Dele, who doesn’t move the grape. Eric finally parts his lips and holds the grape between his teeth, lets Dele let go and chews it slowly.

“Tasty?” Dele asks.

“It’s a grape,” Eric says. “Of course. It’s perfect.”

“You’re so stupid,” Dele laughs.

“Hey,” Eric says. “I’ve got lots of plans for us today.”

“Oh, yeah?” Dele asks.

“Yeah,” Eric grins. “Hope you’re fit enough for a hike.”

  
—  
“Eric,” Dele says. He’s looking up at Eric, squinting from the sun. “I love you.”

Eric thinks his heart stops.

“You don’t have—I just—since before we even—“Dele can’t seem to finish. He looks down at the rocks.

“Me too,” Eric blurts. He kneels down, so that he’s level with Dele, presses a small kiss to his left cheek. Then to his jaw, then his lips. He pulls away before Dele tries searching for more, one kiss was too much already.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Eric whispers. “I’m so happy.”

This is home.

“Me too,” Dele smiles. “We should—like, go back probably?”

“Oh, yeah,” Eric looks at his watch. His family is probably back by now. He’s hungry, too, and he wonders if anyone cooked at home or if he can get a little extra time with Dele, find a hole in the wall to eat in.

Eric stands up, pulling Dele with him. “I’m hungry,” Dele complains.

“Told you to bring a snack,” Eric smiles.

“You ate my snack!” Dele says. Eric did when Dele wasn’t looking.

“It was revenge for the dessert from last night,” Eric says.

“I needed it for energy,” Dele says seriously. He’s leaning into Eric as they walk, causing Eric to stumble a bit. Dele continues, in a low voice, “For all the work I did last night.”

“Oh, sure,” Eric rolls his eyes.

The walk back is quicker than Eric thought, he forgets all about being hungry until they are at the front door using his keys to get inside. The house is full, of course, and Eric smells food, so he’s content.

“You guys took forever,” someone says. “We thought you’d run away!”

“What did you guys do all day?” his sister asks.

“Eric made me breakfast,” Dele says. “And then we took a hike?”

Dele looks at Eric for confirmation. Eric nods. They did do that. Amongst other things throughout the day that Eric is confident that Dele won’t mention.

His sister says, “Ooooh, you two are so cute.”

“What was made? I’m hungry,” Eric says, changing the subject before his sister can think more about it.

“Why don’t you check for yourself, you lazy oaf?”  


“I will, goodness,” Eric says. “I had a long day. Sorry for being hungry.”

“It’s what you get for ditching your family to spend all day with Dele,” his sister says in Portuguese. “You see him every day. Stop hogging him from us.”

Well, if that’s the case, Eric will stop, because if there’s anything Eric loves to see more, it’s Dele integrating with his family.

  
**September 2019**

“It’s super early, but I wanted to talk to you,” Harry says. “How have you been?”

“It’s six in the morning,” Eric says as sternly as he can while also being half-asleep.

“I know,” Harry says. “It’s about Dele.”

Harry Kane does not wait for Eric to let him in. He shoves past Eric, ignoring Eric’s desperate protests. Harry looks a mess himself, he’s mumbling about needing to talk to Eric when he stops dead in his tracks. Eric tries to grab his arm, but Harry manages to slip through his grasp.

He hears Dele yelp in a high pitched voice, “Harry, what--” and then the sound of him tumbling onto the floor, probably because his legs are still tangled in the blankets.

“I see,” Harry says. He turns back around, his expression blank and Eric knows he’s seen Dele half-naked in his bed, he knows they’re in deep shit now.

“W-wait,” Eric says. “Harry.”

“I was worried,” Harry says. “I see you have him handled.”

“It’s not--” Eric starts before he stops himself. It’s not what it looks like? It most certainly is. He’s not quite sure what Harry is specifically upset about.

“I thought I told you if you needed--advice or--” Harry cuts himself off. He at least has the decency to talk in a hushed tone. When Harry had said that, it was in 2015, Eric remembers, before any of this could even be imagined. He didn’t actually think Harry meant any of it anyway. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“No,” Eric answers, honestly.

“Well, figure it the fuck out,” Harry says, pushing past Eric with more force than necessary to leave. Fucking hell. Eric walks back into the room to see Dele is pacing back and forth. He stops when he notices Eric.

“What did he want?” Dele asks.

“He wanted to talk about you,” Eric shrugs.

“Oh god,” Dele says. “I have to talk to him. Sort it out.”

Eric. Is. So. Fucking. Tired.

Dele runs a hand through his flat curls. “I’ll just tell him--”

“Tell him what, Del? We’ve been fucking for two years, and didn’t tell him? Our best friend?” Eric can feel his voice raising.

Dele looks down at his pants that are still on the floor. He probably feels as guilty as Eric feels. But Eric doesn’t actually fucking know, he never asked.

“What the fuck are you even doing?” Eric doesn’t mean to yell. But he does. Dele jumps. Eric regrets it immediately because he has never yelled at Dele not even when he’s made him so mad that he’s had to leave the house.

He feels like shit.

“You should leave,” Eric says.

Dele looks surprised. Eric is surprised, too. “Why?”

“You’ve got a match today,” Eric explains. It’s a shit excuse, but he can’t even look at Dele right now. He can’t believe he let it get to this point. “We can talk about this later.”

“You’re kidding,” Dele says. He sounds like he’s trying not to get upset himself.

“Please,” Eric closes his eyes.

“Okay,” Dele says. Then he leaves.

Eric slowly crawls back into bed, he pulls the cover over his head and falls asleep.

\--  
Eric looks up from where he’s setting himself a plate of food and Jan is storming over towards him. Eric thinks he should probably run away. But obviously, he can’t without making a scene, so he just stands there.

“What the hell is the matter with you,” Jan hisses, and then promptly shoving Eric as hard as he can.

“Um,” Ben says.

“Hey,” Eric warns.

“You deserve it,” Jan puts his hands on his hips. “Come outside now.”

“Jan, let’s not do this, now--”

“Eric.”

“Okay,” Eric puts down his plate of food. “I’m coming.”

Eric asks Ben to watch after his food, but he’s pretty sure he doesn’t hear him, Eric will probably have to get another plate, he thinks.

“You made Dele cry,” Jan says. “I know a lot of this is on him, but what’s going on? Really?”

Eric feels like he’s going to sick on the floor. “Dele was crying?”

“Harry said he came to his room and just started crying,” Jan says. “He said he doesn’t even know what’s happening. He caught you guys.”

“We weren’t doing anything--”

“Yeah?” Jan asks. “Do you think everyone on this team is an idiot? You don’t think people are worried about you guys?”

Eric suddenly feels like ice water has just poured over your head. God, they had been so careless, how could he have not noticed that everyone could see what was going on? He has to lean against the wall and will himself to calm down.

“Eric, please,” Jan says quietly now. “You don’t have to make this harder than it has to be. You can talk to me.”

“I miss him so much,” Eric says finally He puts his face in his hands and slides to the floor. “I love him so much. I see him every day, and it’s not the same. When we fuck it’s not the same, it feels like a fucking chore sometimes to give all that emotional effort. But it seems like that’s the only way we can be close.”

“I know,” Jan says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You should tell him that.”

Eric knows Jan is trying to help. “I don’t know what he wants.”

“Ask him?” Jan says. “Eric what did I tell you about communicating?”

“I don’t remember,” Eric says, and he really doesn’t remember. He mustn’t have been listening.

Jan sighs. “And you really hurt Harry Kane’s feelings.”

Eric doesn’t mean to laugh, but he does. He knows he’s hurt Harry’s feelings, as silly as that sounds. He knows deep down he did all of this wrong, but he doesn’t know if it’s too late to turn it all around.

“Okay, get up, now,” Jan holds out a hand.

Eric takes it, lets himself be pulled up before dusting his behind off. He sighs. “I guess I can’t hide forever.”

Jan shakes his head. “No, you can’t. Not from Harry.”

  
\--  
After the game, when Eric is finished packing his suitcase, he texts Harry.

_Are you alone_

_Yes, are you okay?_

_Yes_, Eric thinks about what to say next. _I want to talk to you_

_Come to my room when you can - H_

“I’m not mad, I’m disappointed,” is the first thing Harry Kane says to Eric when he enters his room. “I knew something was up. I just didn’t know what.”

“I’m sorry,” Eric says. “You’re my friend. It’s not that I didn’t trust you--”

“I get it,” Harry says. “It’s hard, I know. I would never force you to out yourself. But when you’re in trouble, and you need help, you can’t just shut everyone out. Eric, we haven’t talked in ages.”

“Harry.”

“It’s hard to see my mates struggling, and I can’t do a thing about it,” Harry sits down on his bed. “You know those ones?”

“I know,” Eric says.

“I’m sorry for my initial reaction,” Harry shrugs. “I let my frustration get the best of me.”

Eric lets out a long breath before he finally does it. He finally tells Harry everything, from the beginning, the good moments, the bad moments, the worst moment and whatever has been happening the past two months, and how he doesn’t know how to fix it. In the end, he feels like the heaviest weight has been lifted off his shoulders, even if he’s still in the same place. He’d just been holding it in for so long.

“You know what?” Harry laughs. “I thought it was just Dele, but you both are morons.”

“Okay,” Eric says, wounded. “I’m trying to talk to you about my feelings.”

“You know what Dele told me?” Harry asks, but he doesn’t wait for Eric to respond, he barrels on, “He said, ‘I’m not good enough, I’m holding him back.’”

“How could he think that?” Eric asks.

“I thought the same thing!” Harry says. “And here you come, saying the exact same thing.”

“He is the best thing that ever happened to me,” Eric says softly.

“When we get back home, take a bit of time to yourself,” Harry says. “And then talk to him.”

\--  
Eric thinks about what he should say while he sits in the car for about fifteen minutes. He knows he needs to apologize for making Dele leave so suddenly in a moment like that. But it’s also not fair that they’re still doing this. He doesn’t even know if Dele is home, if he’s not, then this was a big waste of time and Eric is going just to drink himself to sleep, then.

He sees Dele standing just outside his threshold when Eric rounds the corner. He’s leaning against it with a small smile. “Was wondering if you were going to sit in your car all night.”

“Had to think about some things,” Eric shrugs. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, of course,” Dele coughs. He moves out of the way.

“I just want to say,” Eric starts. “I hate making you cry.”

“Eric,” Dele says, he sounds like he’s really going to cry.

“I want you to be happy,” Eric says. “If that’s not with me, that’s fine. I just--we can’t keep doing this for our own sake.”

“I’m only happy with you,” Dele says, now he really starts crying. “Eric, I fucked up so bad.”

“No, you didn’t. Not at all,” Eric says, he steps closer to cradle Dele’s face in his hands. He uses his thumb to wipe the tears that have fallen. “I’m still here, right, meu amor?”

“I don’t--”

“If you say you don’t deserve me, Dele, I swear to God,” Eric says with a smile on his face.

“Eric, don’t interrupt me again, I’m trying to make a speech,” Dele laughs through his sniffles. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know where I’m going. I just know that I want you by my side.”

“Me too,” Eric says.

“Will you be my boyfriend?” Dele asks. “Like, for real?”

Eric has never been a fan of labels, he thought. He didn’t realize hearing Dele refer to Eric as his _boyfriend_ would make him feel so warm inside. He didn’t realize how often they never took the opportunity to talk about it.

“I want everything,” Eric says. He finally leans forward to capture Dele’s lips, and it feels so fucking good. He could kiss Dele forever until his jaw hurts until he has to. It’s an even sweeter feeling when Dele wraps his arms around Eric’s waist and holds so tight like he never wants to let go.

Eric missed it a lot: like the taste and feel of Dele’s mouth, like the feeling of Dele’s tongue against his own. Dele’s tongue licks against Eric’s lip, slips inside his mouth. Eric’s stomach feels like it’s doing somersaults. Eric pushes into Dele’s hold and the kiss, licking into Dele’s mouth.

After forever, it starts to get heated, Eric has Dele squeezed between him and the wall, and where they’re breathing into each other’s mouths, and it feels like they can’t get their faces close enough. That’s when Dele makes small noises that come from the back of his throat and Eric wants more, he needs more—

Dele pulls away and Eric suddenly feels cold. He knows he’s got an incredulous look on his face because Dele is looking at him like he’s trying not to laugh.

“We should take it slow,” Dele says.

“Slow,” Eric repeats. He doesn’t understand.

“Yeah?” Dele shrugs. “Like putting out on the first date.”

“It’s _after_ the first date,” Eric says.

“I never said we were conventional,” Dele shrugs.

“Big word,” Eric teases. “I’m proud, baby.”

“Okay, maybe after the fifth date,” Dele turns away from Eric, but he’s got a smile on his face.

“You just look so good right now,” Dele sounds pained about it. “If you stay over--”

Before Eric finally leaves, he captures Dele’s mouth into another open kiss. It’s just little kitten licks, and Eric feels Dele’s arms around his neck. Eric is embarrassed about being hard over a bit of snog, but he can feel Dele is, too.

“I’m taking you out tomorrow,” Eric says when he pulls away. Eric realizes they haven’t even left the front of Dele’s house.

“Surprise me, Dier,” Dele says.

“I’m going to woo the fuck out of you,” Eric promises.

“You already have,” Dele smiles.

His smile is so beautiful. Eric has missed it so much.


	4. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dele snorts in response. “Maybe stop making heart eyes at me from the other side of the pitch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title of the fic is from ‘wading’ by jhene aiko

Eric takes Dele to a very expensive restaurant. He did try very hard to get reservations, so Dele should be grateful.

About twenty minutes into the meal, Eric is pushing his food around the plate and Dele is doing the same, they’ve decided to watch other couples instead in the restaurant.

“Could you imagine taking someone on a fancy date just to break up with them?” Dele asks. “That poor lad.”

Eric looks over to where the woman is letting the guy down easy, he can tell by her posture, the way the guy’s back is getting straighter and straighter. Eric chuckles a bit because it’s funny to watch, but he agrees. Poor lad.

“You foiled my plans,” Eric tries to sound as stricken as possible.

“Ugh,” Dele groans. “Too soon.”

“Look at that one,” Eric points. Dele slaps his hand down, tells him pointing is rude. “First date. Bet the guy won’t shut up about himself.”

The girl does look miserable, while the guy is chattering away, very loudly and animatedly at that.

“‘I’m an entrepreneur.’” Dele says in a mocking tone. Eric can’t help the giggle that escapes him.

Eric hums and puts his fork down. He folds his hands together and rests his chin on top. Dele looks at him, his lips pursed.

“Eric, can I be honest with you?”

“Yes,” Eric says.

“This food is shit,” Dele says, also setting down his barely used fork. “We could get something better by your house.”

Eric can’t help but laugh out loud, much to the family beside their table’s annoyance. It really is crap. He doesn’t know how someone could go so wrong with chicken breast. “I know. But I said I was going to woo you. Weren’t the walls in the loo just lovely?”

“Yes,” Dele nods thoughtfully. “Might have to do some repainting.”

“Your place is an architectural shit show anyway,” Eric says nonchalantly. “Might as well.”

“You’re so rude!” Dele leans back, shocked. “You said you liked it when I showed you the pictures.”

“I was only trying to get in your pants,” Eric says. It’s not entirely true, but he’s enjoying seeing Dele so riled up about this.

“How can I trust your opinion on anything?” Dele asks. “I’m just so attractive.”

“Relax,” Eric says. “I was not trying to inflate your already huge ego.”

“All those sweet nothings have really gotten to my head,” Dele agrees. “Please don’t ever stop.”

“Never,” Eric grins.

\--

Eric believes it was a much smarter idea to sit in the car with Dele and eat food they’re not supposed to include in their diet. Even when Dele drops some sauce on Eric’s gearshift, doesn’t wipe it, Eric doesn’t mind. He swipes some sauce from the corner of Dele’s mouth with his thumb and tastes it himself.

“Was this date everything you imagined?” Eric asks.

“Oh yes,” Dele says with his mouth full. “The people watching was the best part.”

“Never seen so many couples fighting over a fancy dinner,” Eric agrees.

“Could not be us,” Dele shakes his head.

“Right,” Eric snorts. “We fight over who cheated in Fifa.”

Eric walks Dele to his door, he’s a nice guy.

“Are you going to come inside?” Dele asks as he opens the door and notices that Eric makes no movement to follow him inside.

“It’s the first date,” Eric says.

“I was absolutely joking, asshole,” Dele says. “I have beer and video games inside.”

He really does go inside, watches Dele crack open two beers and follow him to the living room, grabbing a controller for himself. Dele wins the first two rounds -- Eric lets him win, he swears -- but Eric gets him back eventually, and suddenly Dele doesn’t want to play anymore, he’s sulkily sipping on his second beer.

Eric puts his own beer down, reaches over to pulls Dele flush against him. He slips his hands under Dele’s t-shirt and lightly runs his fingers over Dele’s sides, trying to tickle him a little bit. Dele squirms a bit, a drop of the beer spilling, but he doesn’t move away.

“You’re cross over a stupid game?” Eric asks.

“No,” Dele says, sounding absolutely annoyed.

“Try harder next time,” Eric says. He grabs the beer from Dele’s hand and puts it on the table by his own. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Dele says in return.

“I love you, you know that?” Eric says. He kisses Dele on the cheek.

“Um,” Dele starts, and Eric awaits his smart ass response. “Sorry, we just met.”

“You’re right,” Eric says, letting go of Dele. “I should leave before things get too heated.”

“No!” Dele says, grabbing ahold of Eric’s arm. “You are staying right here.”

“Okay,” Eric says, sinking back even more into the couch. Dele lets go of Eric’s arm and grab ahold of his face, turning it so their lips can meet. Dele moves his hand from the back of Eric’s neck to Eric’s cheek again and strokes his cheek softly. It’s lovely. Eric opens his mouth, allows Dele to lick into it. Dele seems satisfied with the current tempo, kissing Eric slowly and tentatively kissing him deeper. Dele’s mouth is hot and wet and knocks the air right out of Eric’s lungs. He really loves kissing him.

The kiss gets deeper, but it feels like it’s the same mood. Eric bites at Dele’s lower lip, causing him to whimper quietly. Eric wants to hear that noise again. He loves to listen to the sounds that Dele makes. Eric tugs Dele’s waist closer so that Dele can pull a leg over and straddle him. Dele’s fingers are rubbing at the bare skin of Eric’s waist where his t-shirt has ridden up, but they don’t travel anywhere else. Dele takes this moment to kiss his neck and suck on the just above the collar of Eric’s t-shirt. It gives Eric a chance to catch his breath, but he still feels choked up.

Dele pulls away, finally, and says, “I’m tired.”

“Me, too,” Eric says.

“Let’s go to bed,” Dele says.

They don’t even fuck, is the thing. When Dele suggests to Eric that they go upstairs, Eric doesn’t even anticipate anything else except for sleep. He does give Dele’s bum a cheeky little slap while they walk up the stairs, laughing at when Dele jumps.

Dele’s room is a mess, of course, it looks like a tornado has been through it. Dele says he cleaned it yesterday but was looking for clothes today. Eric knows he won’t be able to stand it at some point and clean it up himself.

“You know you don’t have to empty out every drawer to look for an outfit?” Eric asks.

“Who cares?” Dele asks.

“I’m going to trip over your clothing when I have to get up to take a piss,” Eric says.

“Eric, come on, I’ll do it tomorrow,” Dele says, already snuggling under the covers. “I want to go to sleep.”

Eric strips himself of his clothes. He climbs into his side of Dele’s bed, it feels so cold, it feels like he hasn’t been there for so long. Dele puts a hand around Eric’s middle and snuggles himself up to Eric’s chest.

“You know,” Dele says softly. “I missed having you in my bed.”

“Did you?” Eric asks.

“I did,” Dele nods. “Even if you run one hundred degrees and you hog all the blankets.”

“I’m sure the other things we do in your bed make up for it,” Eric smirks.

“Perhaps,” Dele mumbles. “Are we going to training together?”

Eric swallows. “Yeah.”

“Ooh, big step,” Dele says. “Harry says everyone already knows.”

“So did Jan,” Eric says.

Dele’s voice is dripping with sarcasm when he says, “Oh, lovely.”

“Embarrassing,” Eric says. “Thought we were the sneakiest bastards out there.”

Dele snorts in response. “Maybe stop making heart eyes at me from the other side of the pitch.” Nothing is said after that because Eric really can’t argue that fact. He’s seen photos, and he can’t seem to turn that expression off when looking at Dele. He wants to say that Dele can be worse when he wants to, but fatigue and the warmth of Dele take over him. Eric falls asleep quickly after that.

It’s a rush in the morning when they wake up later than they should have, though. Eric, of course, is ready before Dele, and he sits on the couch and watches a half-dressed Dele run around like a chicken, afro pick hanging from his hair. Eric realized he missed this a lot, the domesticity of it. It’s a simple thing, but it makes his heart swell knowing this is something he gets to witness for a while, hopefully forever.

“Oh my god,” Dele says when he comes downstairs for hopefully the last time. “I told you to start the car.”

“That was like,” Eric checks his watch. “An hour ago.”

Dele looks sheepish at least. “I didn’t realize how long I take.”

Eric shakes his head, “Forever,” he tries to sound annoyed, but it definitely comes out fonder than anything, and Dele flashes him a smile.

\--

It’s a typical day at the office, Eric thinks. No one bats an eye when Eric follows Dele in. Except, maybe Winksy, who already has two seats saved for them.

“Why were you two late this morning?” Winksy asks with a smirk.

“Can you keep a secret?” Dele leans closer to Winksy.

“Yeah,” Winksy nods.

  
“Okay, I’m not sure why Eric was late, but I had a hot date,” Dele shrugs. “He was very cuddly in the morning, I didn’t want to wake up.”

“I can’t stand you,” Winksy says. “So I was right? You two had a falling out?”

“Of the sorts,” Eric shrugs.

“Thought it’d be like this forever,” Winksy groans. “Thank god.”

\--

When they go to Eric’s house, Eric thinks he’s ready to do the thing he thought he would never do even with a gun to his head about five months ago. Eric has his phone in his hand, his mother’s contact page open. Eric and Dele are staring at Eric’s phone patiently like it’ll do the job for them.

“Oh my god,” Dele mutters. “I bet you she already knows.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Eric argues. “She asks me about my relationship status all the time.”

“Yeah, mate, she’s waiting for you to say, ‘Dele Alli is the love of my life!’,” Dele says, rolling his eyes like that’s the most straightforward answer.

“You’re wrong,” Eric shakes his head. “She’s very nosy.”

“Do you want to bet?” Dele raises a challenging brow.

“Yeah, I do,” Eric says because he can never back down from one of Dele’s challenges. “What happens if you win?”

“You do whatever I want whenever I want?” Dele suggests.

“I already do that,” Eric laughs.

Dele hums. “Sexual favours?”

“No,” Eric says. “Next thing you’ll ask me to suck you off at the stadium.”

“Oh,” Dele deflates.

Eric looks at him. “I was--did you actually think that would happen?”

“Can a man have fantasies, Dier?”

“I’m going to call my mum, now,” Eric says, changing the subject. He will revisit Dele’s exhibition kink later.

“Okay,” Dele settles in his seat and places both his hands on Eric’s knee. For support? Eric isn’t sure, but it is helping his nerves even in the slightest, just feeling Dele’s touch.

“Eric,” his mum says through the phone. The relief in her voice makes Eric feel all kinds of guilt for being the way he was the last three months. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Eric says. “Mum, I have to tell you something.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just-- it’s about Dele,” Eric says, playing with the loose thread on Dele’s shirt. “About, um, both of us, actually.”

“Oh my gosh,” his mum sounds oddly excited but also like she’s about to burst into tears. “Do go on!”

“Yeah, so, um you know how---”

“Eric, wait, your father is right here, let me put you on speaker,” his mum says.

Eric frowns. Why is she getting his father? “Mum--no--”

He hears his mother mutter something along the lines of, your son is growing up.

“You finally popped the question?” his dad asks, and Eric can’t take the phone off speaker fast enough. Dele digs his fingers into each of Eric’s thighs, and Eric can’t look at him. This is quite embarrassing for him. Bets are stupid, anyway. Dele is now going to make him do something absolutely ridiculous now, and holy shit that means all his siblings know and Eric is a terrible liar.

“I’m sorry, what?” Eric laughs, nervously. “Um, I don’t--”

“I was born at night, but not last night!” Louise says from afar.

“We’re not getting married,” Eric says quickly.

“Yet!” Dele says, loud enough for Eric’s whole neighbourhood to hear.

“Oh, for god’s sake, give Dele the phone,” his mum sounds very annoyed with Eric now.

Eric wordlessly hands over the phone instead of even trying to tell his mother no.

“Hello?” Dele asks into the phone.

Eric hears the tinny voice of his mother, but he can’t quite make out the words she’s saying, but it has Dele smiling.

“A few road bumps, won’t lie,” Dele says. “But now we’re on the right track.”

Eric watches fondly as Dele nods even though his mother can’t see Dele, the little laughs Dele lets out, and a big smile on his face that never leaves.

“Eric and I should definitely come over for dinner tonight,” Dele says, then pauses. He asks Eric, “were you planning on cooking anything tonight?”

“No,” Eric shakes his head.

“Okay, we’re coming for sure,” Dele says into the phone. He pauses for a bit, then smiles shyly. Eric wishes the phone were on speaker.

“For sure,” Dele nods. “I’m thinking like--on a beach or something.”

“On a beach?” Eric squeaks. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t really want a big wedding,” Dele says, and then he gets up and starts walking out of the kitchen and out of earshot. Eric tries to follow him, but not fast enough, it seems when the last thing he sees is his office door closing. Dele’s voice becomes muffled, and Eric thinks that soundproof was a useless invention in the first place, anyway.

After about five minutes, Eric thinks he’s probably never getting his phone back. He should probably find something else to do.

If there’s one takeaway from this, it’s that it went better than Eric could’ve imagined. It’s not that he thought it would go horribly wrong or anything. But Eric still worried. He’s glad he doesn’t have to anymore. When Dele comes out of the office and straddles Eric’s lap, gives him a chaste kiss, Eric knows it’s going to be alright.

“Your mum couldn’t figure out what to make,” Dele says. “I made reservations instead.”

“Thoughtful of you,” Eric grins. “Whose wedding were you planning, just now?”

“Oh, you know,” Dele shrugs. “Your mum wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“So I guess that means you win,” Eric says. “She knew.”

“Yup,” Dele says, popping the ‘p.’

“What must I do for you?” Eric asks.

“Are you sure you don’t find the stadium thing--”

“Oh god,” Eric says, and he stands up and drops Dele on the floor.

  
\--

“I’ll cook something up,” Eric laughs into the phone. “Dele will bring something. Maybe dessert or alcohol.”

He doesn’t hear when Dele wakes up and comes down into his office, only feels Dele’s hands cup both his shoulders, feels Dele press a kiss to the underside of Eric’s jaw. Eric smiles to himself.

“Who are you talking to?” Dele whispers in the ear that Eric doesn’t have a phone pressed up to.

“H,” Eric answers. Dele hums and rounds the chair before he takes a seat on Eric’s lap. He’s still nude from last night, he’s wearing Eric’s t-shirt to at least cover himself up, but it’s distracting, he’s got a beautiful boy in his lap, and he can’t stop thinking about all the things he did to that gorgeous boy last night.

“Why am I bringing dessert?” Dele asks. “I can cook.”

“We’re going to Harry’s tonight, for dinner,” Eric says.

“Hm,” Dele says. He presses a kiss to Eric’s jaw again, and then Dele’s mouth is now sliding against Eric’s neck, not really kissing or biting, but the warmth is making Eric’s pulse race nonetheless. Eric likes Dele’s mouth on his neck, it’s his favourite, and it’d be so easy to push back until Dele’s pressed against the edge of his desk, his warm body pressed against Eric.

“I’m on the phone,” Eric says.

“I can see that,” Dele says. “Are you going to hang up?”

“I am going to hang up,” Harry says before Eric can mute the phone. “I’ll see you guys tonight.”

“That’s so embarrassing,” Eric says when he puts his cellphone down, and he lifts Dele up onto his desk. “What’s with you and people knowing about our sex life?”

“I just want what I want when I want it,” Dele smirks.

“Because you’re a spoiled brat,” Eric says.

“Whose fault is that?” Dele asks.

“Well, you deserve it,” Eric shrugs.

“Hey,” Dele hooks his legs around Eric’s waist. “Don’t go soft on me now.”

“‘M not,” Eric says. “Just telling you the truth.”

“Are we gonna do this here?” Dele asks.

“No?” Eric stands up. “You’re gonna fuck up your back.”

“You’re so boring,” Dele says.

He takes Dele upstairs, of course, because Eric is serious about not doing anything that would aggravate anything. Dele does help him cook, a little bit. Dele doesn’t understand why they need to bring something if Harry and Kate are hosting, but Eric tells him, it’s a nice thing to do, and they’re doing it together which makes it even sweeter.

Later that evening, after they spent the evening talking about the funniest moments of their relationship, the dumb, irresponsible things they used to do, Eric thinks, as Dele excitedly shows Harry photos of the last time he was in Portugal, while Eric and Kate are cleaning up the dishes from the table, why the fuck they didn’t do this before. The two years were the greatest, but they must’ve really been idiots to think they could do this alone. It’s so much better when you’re doing this with people who love and support you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg. ok. voila! :)
> 
> thank you for all who read this!!! :D 
> 
> lets hope i will myself to write more >.<


End file.
